


Knife Edge

by heavvymetalqueen



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Choking, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dubious Consent, Hypnotism, M/M, Rough Sex, Strangulation, big boss - Freeform, he's here....technically, whether Ocelot is in control or not is up to the reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 01:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13044066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavvymetalqueen/pseuds/heavvymetalqueen
Summary: They aren't like that.But maybe, they could be.Just for one night.





	Knife Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greatvaluelawncare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatvaluelawncare/gifts).



> for wish #97: Convoluted mutual dubcon/noncon: On top of the self hypnosis/brainwashing there’s so many altered states these two could be subjected to/subject the other to, not to mention issues if one, both, or neither of them remembers...

_be gentle_

_of course_

Sometimes the knife wound in his chest throbs, especially now that the monsoon season hangs over Mother Base like a heavy, damp curtain.

Venom stitched it up himself in his quarters, his hand firm and his cock throbbing in his rolled down sneaking suit. Then he masturbated, his hand still stained with his own blood.

He feels guilty every time he thinks about it, every time the scar pulls at his skin and a ribbon of heat unfurls in his belly - his mind isn't what it used to be, but his body can't forget Ocelot's hand splayed on his chest, the slide of the cold blade out of his flesh. Just like he can't forget their travel on the whaler, Ocelot's delicate fingers massaging his atrophied muscles, the crisp whisper of leather as he strapped his old bionic to his arm.

Venom's frayed nerve ends drank in that contact, hungry after so long. That hunger hasn't gone away, it only got worse. In this humid heat, he feels Ocelot would be cool, dry, refreshing like cold water.

But he and Ocelot aren't like that.

~~I'm your oldest friend~~

And he loves Kaz

~~he's your sun. The reason you did all this. Kaz waited for you so long~~

Ocelot waited too, held his hand out to him and looked like an avenging knight, but they aren't like that.

~~You love Kaz.~~

He does. Kaz who bared his broken body to him, Kaz who kisses him with his breath tasting like acid and too much cheap gin.

Kaz that sometimes screams him out of the room, Kaz that sometimes slurs words that cut and hurt, Kaz that sometimes ignores him, avoids him, leaves him alone with his ghosts and his voices that aren't there and his shameful yearning for Ocelot's slender, perfect body.

It's not Kaz's fault.

But it isn't Venom's fault, either.

His body wants what it wants, and it wants Ocelot's.

They aren't like that. But they were. They used to be.

Venom remembers. He's not sure he's supposed to remember, but he does. Remembers Ocelot's flat stomach flexing as he rode him, remembers the flush of his pale skin, his scent, clean and spicy.

When was it?

It couldn't have been '64. They didn't have the time, did they…?

Maybe '71, in the Patriots, on the silk sheets in Zero's mansion.

 ~~Maybe in the hospital, while he slumbered with an eye half open~~ \- no, he would not do that.

Would he?

Venom takes a hit off his phantom cigar, bare feet dangling off the side of the platform.

Maybe he should ask him.

The moon is huge, the night still and warm. The tarmac is hot with the day's sun, a sheen of sweat is beading in his beard. Tonight feels like a fever.

He should really ask him.

He gets up, and leaves his boots behind on the edge of the platform. He's going to need to be extra quiet, tonight.

It's not the first time he slips in Ocelot's quarters unnoticed, as if pulled by a mysterious force that makes his chest tight and his throat dry. Ocelot may be a spy with a light sleep, but Venom is a  _professional_.

He also has the door override codes.

He's the boss, here. Despite what Kaz seems to think, sometimes.

Venom's bionic fingers clench with a whirr as he steps over the threshold. He has never done anything but watch Ocelot sleep, admire the moonlight glowing off the curve of his bare neck.

But tonight, tonight he might…

~~no, that wouldn't be right, we aren't like that~~

Ocelot is not in his quarters.

Venom's fingers unclench with a soft  _click_.

No matter. He knows where to find him.

He can smell the sweet scent of marijuana, with a bite of disinfectant and  _something else_ , before he can see Ocelot sitting outside the stairwell that leads down to room 101.

“Busy night?” he chuckles, sliding down the wall to join him. There are blood specks on his cuffs, black in the moonlight.

He smells  _incredible_ , blood and weed and sweat and  _arousal_ , and when he looks up his eyes are dark and blown, his lips spit-slick.

Venom buries his face into Ocelot's neck, between his limp hair and his sweat-soaked scarf, inhales his scent, licks the acrid sweat off his skin, so soft, so soft.

“Boss,” he breathes.

Right.

He is Big Boss.

And everything here belongs to him.

Including Ocelot.

He plants his hand on Ocelot's toned thigh, palming the crease of where leg meets torso.

He expects him to ask about Miller, about Kaz, but he doesn't. He takes a long, deep hit of his joint, tilts Venom's head back by the ponytail, and blows the smoke into his open mouth, sweet and sticky.

They aren't like that.

But maybe, they could be.

Just for one night.

Venom blows the smoke back into Ocelot's mouth, his head light and floating in the mix of marijuana and wormwood, and grips his scarf.

“Let's go inside,” he growls.

Ocelot obeys. He helps him up, they descend the stairs to his torture dungeon together. It's even hotter in here, humid like a sauna from the water that has been hosed over the ground and the walls.

It's clean, but the stench of piss and terror still wafts from the grates in the floor, permeates every surface of the room.

Venom sits on the heavy, scuffed table, his bare feet barely touching the damp metal floor. Ocelot ambles fluidly between his knees, gloved hands running up Venom's legs. His eyes are dark, unfocused, burning as hot as Venom feels.

His mouth is cool and sweet with smoke. He makes a small surprised noise when Venom pushes his tongue deep, trembles with anticipation when Venom rips his shirt open, hisses around Venom's tongue when the delicate skin of his chest catches in the titanium joints.

Venom squeezes harder.

When he lets go and Ocelot steps back hairline cuts bead with crimson across his hard pink nipple.

Venom grips his scarf in his bionic, pulls him flush to him, tightens his fist enough to see his eyes bulge.

“Boss-” he rasps, gasping for breath.

“Say my name.”

Ocelot arches against him, chokes on his own spit, finally croaks, “John…”

~~your name, your life, they belong to me~~

is that really his name?

~~you are Big Boss~~

does it really matter

~~I made you and I can destroy you~~

when he owns this man?

He releases the scarf. Ocelot sucks in a hissing, deep breath. Does not cough, does not spit.

He's stronger than he looks  ~~terrifyingly strong, merciless~~

“On your knees.”

Ocelot drops to the floor with a chime of spurs, his hands still on  ~~Venom~~ John's thighs.

He unzips his fatigues. Runs his flesh fingers in Ocelot's hair as he reaches into them to take out his cock. It's so fine, so soft. He wraps it around his fist to guide his mouth to the underside of his cock, sighs as his wet tongue drags across sensitive skin.

“Suck it,” says  ~~Venom~~  John.

Ocelot obeys. His mouth is a furnace, drool dripping into his beard as he fucks his throat on his cock.

Even Kaz can't take this much of him, this deep.

~~he will be hurt, abused, scared. You will not hurt him. You will not force him. You will protect him, respect him. You will love him~~

What is he doing? If Kaz finds out, if he finds out…

Ocelot releases Venom's cock with a wet pop. “John?”

Right.

John grabs Ocelot from under his arms, spins around to drape him over the table. His belt clinks as he jiggles it open. His spurs rattle as he shoves inside of him to the hilt.

Yeah.

This is right.

Ocelot whimpers and moans, and he sticks his fingers in his mouth, rutting over him like the sweaty, feverish animal he makes him feel.

“Ah, Boss, you're…” he gasps as the table shifts loudly under them, “you're…hurting me…”

 ~~John~~  Venom slows down. Pulls out, petting Ocelot's hip.

Ocelot rolls over to sit onto the table, kicking off his boots and pants, long gloved fingers caressing his beard.

“Who are you?” he says, and his voice is as deep and cold as the bottom of the Atlantic ocean, just like his eyes

~~you are nothing~~

~~you are clay that I chose to mold~~

~~you are a phantom~~

~~you are smoke and mirrors~~

~~you are mine~~

and Venom falls into his embrace again, breathless and tumbling.

He does not know.

He does not care.

All he cares about is the slender pale body under him, whispering words he cannot grasp, like music on the other side of a wall he cannot climb.

“Nobody will know,” whispers Ocelot in his ear as Venom grinds into him, heat crawling from the soles of his feet and seeking the wet depth of Ocelot's body. “Nothing ever happened. We don't exist, you and I. Never did.”

Venom kisses him. Swallows his quiet moan as he comes in Venom's tight fist, quivering around his softening cock.

He's flushed pink when Venom pulls back, bruises blossoming on his chest and throat. He smiles, his fingers light in his hair.

He's beautiful, and Venom--

“Sleep,” says Ocelot, pressing his middle finger just under the larger spike of his horn where his skull is caved in and everything turns to static

~~and he sleeps~~

A fat raindrop hits him in the back of the neck. Humidity is lifting off the tarmac in heated waves.

~~go back to him now~~

He should go back to Kaz, now. He probably is having trouble falling asleep. Heat and humidity make their scars throb and tingle.

He can't find his boots, but that doesn't matter, they were old anyway.


End file.
